My deep soul

Chapter 23

The morning sunlight streamed faintly through the latticed windows, painting golden lines on the wooden floor. Jidiwi's eyes caught sight of Jinyoen, his breath stilled.

She moved silently across the courtyard, her steps unhurried, almost lifeless. She wore a plain white hanfu, one he had never seen her choose before. Her long hair—usually adorned with delicate hairpins and braided ribbons—was carelessly tied with nothing more than a simple strip of cloth.

But it wasn’t her dress that pierced him. It was her eyes.

Those eyes—once filled with mischief, color, and a sparkle that matched the brightest jewels she adored—were now dull and blank, as if the flame within her had been extinguished overnight.

Jidiwi clenched his jaw. *Who has stolen the light from you, Jinyoen? How can I take back what you’ve lost?*

He wasn’t the only one who noticed. Sunwoo called softly, “Jin…” but she walked past him without even a glance, her lips pressed together in silence. Sunwoo’s brows knit in frustration, but he let her go.

From the corner, Ahro had been watching too. Her gaze flicked between Jinyoen’s retreating figure and Jidiwi, who stood rooted with a troubled expression. Slowly, she stepped closer to him.

“You do care about her a lot, don’t you?” Ahro asked gently, her voice low enough that only he could hear.

Jidiwi turned his head to her, and without hesitation, answered, “Yes. I love her with all my heart.” His voice, though steady, carried a rare vulnerability.

Ahro’s expression softened. She studied him for a moment, perhaps weighing the truth of his words, before she spoke again. “Then… can you promise me something for her sake?”

Jidiwi straightened, his dark eyes locking onto hers. “Anything for Jinyoen,” he said without pause.

“Do not leave her,” Ahro said, her tone firm now. “Stay with her. Let her feel she is not alone. She has already lost too many people… she cannot bear to lose another.”

For a moment, silence stretched between them. Jidiwi’s chest tightened. The words 'lost too many' echoed in his mind, and though his heart burned to demand 'Whom? What happened?'—he restrained himself. His fists slowly unclenched, and his expression softened.

“Whom has she lost?” he asked at last, his voice quiet, careful.

Ahro looked away, her lips pressing together. “It is her story to tell,” she replied, firmly but kindly.

Jidiwi nodded slowly, a muscle twitching in his jaw. He understood. If Jinyoen had wounds hidden beneath that fragile smile, then they were hers to reveal when she was ready. Forcing them open would only deepen her scars.

He turned his gaze back toward where Jinyoen had gone, his heart swelling with an ache he could no longer deny. 'She may not look at me yet. She may not choose me yet. But I will not leave her.'

“I will stay,” he murmured under his breath, a vow only the morning wind and Ahro could hear. “No matter how long it takes, no matter how much she resists—I will wait until she is ready. Until she sees me.”

Ahro glanced at him quietly, and for the first time, she allowed herself to believe that perhaps Jinyoen’s broken heart might someday find a safe home.

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The day dragged on in silence. Jinyoen had not spoken more than a few words to anyone, and her absence of laughter weighed heavily on the Hwarang hall. Even the younger boys, who often sought her cheerful energy, avoided her today, sensing the storm behind her blank eyes.